


Good Omens Drabbles - Slash

by Celandine



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Drabble Collection, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-12-14
Updated: 2009-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15049196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: Drabbles featuring same-sex pairings in the Good Omens-verse.





	1. Gayer Than Thou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has good gaydar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for fleurdeliser for holiday 2007.

"Hell yes, I'm serious," Crowley hissed, nodding at the two young men browsing in the front of the angel's shop. "They're unquestionably wizards, and gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide."

"But how can you tell?" asked Aziraphale.

The fair-haired man poked his companion and murmured in his ear.

"Draco," protested the other in a loud whisper. "Not here." But his arm went around the first man's waist.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Because if we were human, that is exactly how we would behave." He patted Aziraphale's bum. "I might just decide to behave that way anyway."


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tries to broaden Aziraphale's musical horizons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Vulgarweed, who wanted Aziraphale/Crowley, reactions to Beethoven.

Aziraphale's wireless set was easily seventy years old, but since it never occurred to him that it wouldn't work, it continued to.

"Haven't you ever considered listening to more modern programming?" Crowley reached out to alter the setting.

"I like Beethoven," said Aziraphale mildly. "He's formal and complex." He turned over a leaf in his book.

Crowley pulled a face. "You need to join the twenty-first century, angel. Here." Disregarding Aziraphale's protests – "You can change it back after I leave" – he twisted the dial to bring in a pirate station playing classic punk.

"Be-bop," sighed Aziraphale, and stoically ignored it.


	3. In Which Crowley Is Surprised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale makes an improbable suggestion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Vulgarweed's birthday.

Crowley blinked, rather unusually. Blinking was one of those human things that he considered optional, and since if he failed to blink, his eyes would continue to work just fine, it was, for him.

Sometimes, however, it seemed appropriate.

"You want to _what_?" he asked.

"Celebrate your birthday," Aziraphale replied.

"We don't _have_ birthdays," Crowley pointed out. "Angels were created directly. Hence the lack of navel, among other things that distinguish us from humans."

Aziraphale pointed. "You didn't start out with _that_ , either, but you've never shown any hesitation in using it."

"Well then, happy birthday to me," Crowley murmured.


	4. Plagued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourteenth century had been the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Vulgarweed for holiday 2007.

The fourteenth century had been the worst, they agreed, although their reasons were quite different.

Aziraphale had disliked it because the humans tended to interpret plague as the wrath of God being visited upon them. He longed to tell them that no, it was instead a lack of sanitation and basic hygiene, but since such an explanation would have involved a terribly anachronistic presentation of germ theory, he was stymied.

Crowley disliked it just because it was dull. So many deaths so quickly meant little scope for creativity in corruption; the souls rolled into Hell without need of his expertise.


	5. Blowing Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tempts Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for archon_mentha for my fourth LiveJournal anniversary.

"It's hardly as if you can get cancer, is it?" Crowley pointed out, fingertips stroking the polished cherry wood bowl.

Aziraphale's throat was dry. He cleared it. "It _is_ a vice."

"So?" Crowley reached for the tin of fragrant tobacco.

"So, I'm supposed to avoid those."

Crowley lifted the pipe to his nose, sniffing, pleasure suffusing his countenance. Aziraphale quashed the treacherous feeling that sprang up. Envy of a _pipe_?

With one firm stroke, Crowley lit a match, touching it to the leaves. He inhaled the smoke, then sighed it out in relaxation. "You don't know what you're missing, angel."


End file.
